


I don't care as long as you're here

by Pythia (melancholic_pigeon)



Series: fate or something better [5]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, BDSM, Collars, M/M, Ownership Kink, both of these boys have a lot of feelings okay, some of these fics straddle the line between M and E and this is one of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23748076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholic_pigeon/pseuds/Pythia
Summary: "Can I open it now?""Please."It's hard to see if you're not used to looking, but Jason has a few anxiety tells–right now, he's still as stone, but his chest is rising just a hair too quickly, so Percy climbs in bed with him and tucks up against his side. Such a little thing, but it evens Jason's breathing out almost instantly.When he gets the paper torn away and the lid of the box off, Percy stops breathing entirely.
Relationships: Jason Grace/Percy Jackson
Series: fate or something better [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/453601
Comments: 16
Kudos: 99





	I don't care as long as you're here

**Author's Note:**

> It's not actually the anniversary yet, but the 27th marks four years since I published Stellar, and I was so surprised at myself and fucking over the moon at all of you wonderful, fantastic creatures that I wanted to mark the occasion, and I decided that because everything is chaos and it also happens to be my birthday later that week I am posting it early as my present to myself because I have been _climbing the walls since I finished it_ , aaaaaah
> 
> I'm still not sure where this volume is coming from and I do a great many of warding and luck spells and knocking-on of wood. I'm just thankful you're all here with me and giving me so so so much in return. LOVE. ALL OF IT. ALL OF THE LOVE. 
> 
> (per usual ignore me making edits and sucking at numbers, lmao)
> 
>  **Content warning** for weight talk and a brief mention of severe depression.

_ April 27th, 2015, 6:48 PM _

_ – _

"Ow _ , shoot!"  _

"Jesus. Was that your head?" The  _ thunk  _ was loud enough that Percy heard it, and he finds himself scrambling out of their bed and across their postage stamp of a basement studio as Jason pushes through the door with his back, hands occupied with grocery bags. "I thought you were supposed to be  _ avoiding _ any more concussions."

"These doorways are going to be the death of me." Jason heads for the kitchenette, grimacing, sets the bags down on the floor and starts to put the food away. When he bends over, his knee clicks loudly enough to make Percy wince, and again when he straightens back up, peanut butter in hand. 

He puts it away in an upper cupboard, an almost-undetectable tension in his face. He's hurting more than he's letting on–unsurprising, given how hard he's been pushing himself lately. Percy secures the deadbolt, takes two steps and is close enough to reach up and brush his fingers across the light pink mark on Jason's forehead.

(They used to be the same height, almost. When they'd met, there had been a sliver of a difference in Jason's favor, but they'd kept pace for a while after, each one catching up and outgrowing the other every few months. By high school graduation, Percy had hit 6'1 and stopped there, but Jason was 6'2 already, and four years and almost three inches later he's only just starting to slow down, with an awful lot of bruises to show for it.) 

"It's 'cause your body keeps being in places it wasn't last month. Your proprioception is shot. I think someone's been spiking your food with Miracle-Gro." 

Jason smiles, warm and fond and setting off a swirl of giddiness in Percy's stomach. "So  _ that's  _ why all of Leo's recipes call for HGH. It was his secret plan the whole time to make me tower over you." 

"I must be immune to the height part," Percy agrees, meeting that smile with one of his own. (He's never, ever going to get used to the way Jason melts a little when he does.) "Since you do literally all of our cooking, and half the time we share a plate because I forgot to wash the other one." 

"I  _ like _ cooking, it's just that our apartment doesn't like  _ me. _ " 

They're going to have to move out soon, and the taller Jason gets, the more urgent it becomes. He's not at a point where he has to stoop to avoid the ceilings (yet), but his hair is coming alarmingly close. Trouble is, finding somewhere they can afford that  _ isn't  _ the size of one of Estelle's shoe boxes has so far proven impossible. 

Jason's told him over and over he doesn't regret it for a second, that he'd crawl through glass to keep them together after what they went through trying to be apart, but bucking against Juno's conditions for support still threw him into pretty dire straits. 

He isn't quite used to being poor, and at the beginning Percy had to confiscate his wallet a few times to keep him from making investments in quality he could no longer afford. Couple that with a brain that processed budgets the same way Percy's processed Tolstoy, and the first year was resultantly a little rocky. But they're doing better now, barring the minor head injuries and the patches of mold in the bathroom and the leaky corner where their ceiling butts up against a gutter and the herd of rhinos that live above them. 

They have each other and an  _ awesome _ bed, courtesy of Thalia not wanting to waste a perfectly good guest-room mattress by setting it on fire to scrub away the mental image of her baby brother pounding someone through it. Jason fits much more comfortably in a king, so the fact that it takes up almost all of their floor space is excusable–he deserves at least that much sacrifice, even if it means they're spending more of their daytime hours midtown at Percy's parents' place than at their own. 

(Eighty percent of their stuff is there already, and he wouldn't trade anything, not even a penthouse the size of grand central, for the sound of his sister shrieking with joy and demanding to be picked up and raspberried again. And again, and again, and again, with that limitless energy endemic to preschoolers, though Jason never seems to get tired of it either.) 

There are familiar ingredients accumulating next to the stove–tomato paste, a clove of garlic, a small onion, shrink-wrapped ground beef–which jerks Percy out of his ruminating. Before his incredible, sweet, reckless workaholic of a boyfriend can risk any more blows to the skull putzing around making Mexican rice, he ducks between him and the counter to intercept the pass. 

Okay, so maybe it had been hot watching Jason throw his weight around on the field, and maybe Percy had lost his shit a time or six when he made an especially spectacular play, but it's also left his body kind of battered and broken, and that puts a damper on things. Still, sometimes a little of that rookie of the year filters through, and Jason seems happy to let it when it's just the two of them.

_ ("I'm fine, Grantaire. Leave me alone." _

_ "Enj. You are not fine. It's forty degrees out, you're wearing a t-shirt, your lips are blue and you're shaking so hard I can feel your teeth chattering from two benches down."  _

_ "You sound just like my mother. I always heat up when I'm playing, so I didn't think through the after, that's all."  _

_ "You know what, here. It doesn't fit over my shoulder pads anyway."  _

_ "...Did you just give me your letter jacket? What is this, a brat pack movie? The varsity quarterback and the Bender-expy hooligan who got temporarily kicked off the drumline last year for being a disruptive little shit?"  _

_ "You don't have to wear it if you really don't want to."  _

_ "Dude. Are you kidding? I'm wearing it everywhere from now on. Hope you didn't want it back."  _

_ "People will talk. Better go to prom with me, for the sake of both our reputations and a satisfying conclusion to our character arcs.") _

"Oh, no, you don't. I heard your knee freaking out. This is the exact scenario for which I requested a frozen pizza." 

Percy grabs a bag of sweet corn and wraps it in a towel before pushing Jason's substantial frame towards the bed. It takes more effort than he'd like, but Jason always defers to Percy's worry in the end. 

"I can handle standing up for twenty minutes." The protest is pretty weak, though, and Jason sighs softly when he sinks down onto the mattress with the corn held against his head. Percy files the ammo away to nag him with later.

"Maybe I want you to save your spoons until tonight." 

"Good point. It  _ is _ our anniversary and all." 

" _ Shit!"  _

In the momentary spike of shame, Percy forgets he has hands and drops an entire (sealed, thank fuck) box of strawberries. But Jason just laughs, easy and affectionate, and watches with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face as Percy bends down to pick up the box. 

"I only remembered because I set five separate alarms this week. You know I'm worse at keeping track of important dates than you are. And before you angst over the strawberries, I was going to make a pie with them anyway, so it doesn't matter if they're a little bruised."

"Wait." Once his brain catches up with him, Percy registers the questions Jason has just raised. "What the hell did you plan that you needed  _ five alarms  _ for?" 

Jason relaxes back into the pillows. Percy can feel the eyes on his ass, still a little sore from yesterday's session with a hairbrush, and he decides to make a bit of a show of bending over to preheat the oven. 

"There's a box in with my watercolors. Bring it over when you're done. Don't panic; it's not a ring." 

"Yeah, I think we need a little more practice with beginner-level stability before we think about getting hitched." 

(It's hard, though, to keep the instinctive disappointment from coming through, not even because it's a bad idea, but because of the rejection itself.  _ Unimportant. Unwanted. Worthless.  _

But there's also ample evidence to the contrary, in the way Jason looks at him, reaches for him, touches him.  _ Needed. Desired. Precious _ .) 

Curiosity wins out after a detour to put the corn back in the freezer, but it does take an almost equal amount of effort not to tear off the silvery blue paper the second he puts his hands on it. Long and thin, it's about the same size as the palettes surrounding it, but much lighter. Something is sliding around inside, but he can't get a handle on what the shape of it might be.

"Can I open it now?" 

"Please." 

It's hard to see if you're not used to looking, but Jason has a few anxiety tells–right now, he's still as stone, but his chest is rising just a hair too quickly, so Percy climbs in bed with him and tucks up against his side. Such a little thing, but it evens Jason's breathing out almost instantly. 

When he gets the paper torn away and the lid of the box off, Percy stops breathing entirely. 

"This better not have been expensive," he says–or tries to say; for some reason it comes out a papery whisper. It's the worst thing he possibly could have chosen to open with, because it makes Jason's face fall, and Percy has to take a shuddering breath in and lace their hands together as tightly as he can to stop it. "I don't want my engagement ring to be expensive either, for the record." 

It works, thank god, and Jason bursts into nervous laughter, his free arm winding around Percy's back and pulling him in. 

"It's stainless steel. Cost-effective, durable, hypoallergenic and water-resistant." Then he goes serious again, cupping Percy's cheek, those wintry blue eyes searching, studying, familiar. "Don't say yes unless you're sure. Take some time to think about it if you need to." 

Still holding himself stiff as granite, hushed and shy and hopeful. Percy's throat is tight and thick and Jason's shoulder is just so damn inviting he's powerless to stop himself from burying his face in it. His ears are hot and ringing.

"I don't need to think about it at all. Put it on me." 

"You're  _ sure _ you're sure." 

" _ Yes _ , I'm fucking sure I'm sure. You can't drag your feet on commitment  _ you're  _ offering. That's not how that works." 

"Percy." 

Jason pulls back and meets his eyes–another easy way to chill him out, but there's so much feeling there that Percy can't get a handle on anything but the rapidity of his own pulse. 

"I have to do this right." 

For such a big guy, Jason can speak with astonishing softness when he wants to. It never fails to make Percy's skin feel alight, the murmurs running over him like silk. 

"I have to make sure I do this right every time, from now on. I'm not sure I deserve the amount of chances you've given me, but I'm going to do everything in my power to be deserving of you now." 

There's a hand slipping into his and Jason is still giving him that look, focused with enough urgency you'd think it was the only thing keeping him from drowning. 

Instead of arguing or making some dumb quip, Percy makes himself stay there, to do his part at throwing over a lifeline. It's terrifying, sustaining eye contact like this, but Jason's terrified too, and he needs it more than Percy needs to look away.

"You worry way, way too much." Eyes stinging but still fixed, he pulls Jason's hand over to the box, wrapping his fingers around the padlock that sits where the clasp of the chain should be. "Nothing in this entire godforsaken world has ever made my heart pound like knowing you want me badly enough to fucking  _ keep _ me, you beautiful, hopeless Leo-Venus bastard." 

"I have the key, too." Jason lifts a chain from under his own sweatshirt, and sure enough it's there, the same silver color as the lock. "There's a spare for safety, but I'm planning on wearing this one as long as you're wearing yours."

That's what kicks down the floodgates and gets Percy started. Sure, it's a little embarrassing to be bawling like a rejected star search contestant the first time Jason puts on his collar– _ my collar, he gave me a collar, he's wearing the key to my collar and I don't have to take it off unless I want to and I'm his, I'm– _ but when he wipes off his face and looks over, Jason's sniffling too. 

(He's been known to tear up, but he almost never actually cries–Percy's seen it offstage exactly twice–but he's shaking and his eyes are so, so full of so much emotion that the magnitude of it punches the words out of him. Stupid, stupid words, but they get the essential meaning across.) 

"I fuckin' love you, dude." 

And then Jason's taking off his glasses so he doesn't crush them pulling Percy tight–

_ " _ I love you too, I love you  _ so much _ , all I wanted the whole time was you, how did I miss it for so long _ – _ " 

And Percy lets himself be a little bit of a mess in solidarity. Three times, and it never gets any less flooring that Jason feels secure enough with him to show those fervent, intense feelings he keeps locked down. Still waters run deep.

They're each other's. Nothing else matters. Maybe they had to learn that the hard way, but maybe, if this is what came of it, it was worth the struggle for the heat of the metal around his neck, the way the chain feels hitting his chest as Jason fucks him, his hand square over the padlock the whole time; most of all, the brush of that little key against the back of his shoulder.

"I need you to know," Jason pants, heavy and rough and hot against Percy's skin. "I'm yours, too. Every part of me. I'm–fuck, you have me wrapped around your finger, and I've  _ never  _ been this happy." 

"Less talk, more bang," Percy gasps back, grabbing the hand that isn't on his neck and squeezing as hard as he can. " _ There _ , right there, please–" 

"I would do anything–" Jason punctuates it with a thrust, and again harder–"give anything–" and his voice is tight and hungry and Percy's so close he can barely breathe–" _ be  _ anything, just to make you happy."

"Just–just want you. Don't need anything else." 

Whining, Percy pushes back–Jason makes a low, wild sound into his neck–pulls Percy's hips back to get a better angle and work him through the resultant orgasm, holding on while Percy muffles a long, harsh sob in the pillow.  _ Fucking  _ paper-thin walls. 

" _ Nnh– _ "

Jason achieves the same objective by sinking his teeth into Percy's neck, sending aftershocks flooding over from the sting. 

(Marked. Coveted. Claimed.)

Silence. The body above him is the only weight Percy can handle being trapped under. The calm, intimate bubble bursts when they realize the pizza's burning, and at the same time their upstairs neighbors apparently decide to take up hard-shoe Irish stepdancing.

"The worst part," Jason grumbles as he heads into the kitchenette to deal with the acrid smell of scorched cheese, "is that I can't make you scream when the noise carries this much." 

"I'll look into DIY soundproofing." 

Jason wants to see him wrecked,  _ hear  _ him lose his shit. It's just another point on their list of reasons to hunt for a better place, as frustrating as the process is. They're making the best of it by taking the handy excuse to hang out in bed and cuddle, but it's still tinged with that restless knowledge that things could be so much better.

Once they're done with food–Percy ends up letting Jason go back to his original plan, too tired to argue him down, and the rice is too tasty to be mad about it–Jason settles next to him, voicing the same agitation in a sigh. 

Then, out of nowhere–

"I really, really love your ass." 

Percy snorts surprised laughter into Jason's arm, feeling his face go hot. "Still?" 

"Dude. It's one of your best features. I am the opposite of upset that I have more of it to work with." 

(The prozac keeps Percy out of the hospital with his head on straight, so the trade-off is worth it, but it's hard not to let the side effects get to him a little. Jason, though, always knows how to bring him back down from it by turning it into a positive, something worthy of praise.) 

"That's why you've been so focused on it during our scenes lately. You're not actually pan, you're ass-sexual." 

"I'm  _ both,  _ thanks." The growl is nothing but turned on, even too soon to actually respond, and so is the hand that slides down Percy's spine. "And I'm taking the excuse to indulge myself and running with it as far as you'll let me." 

Held tight, Jason's bare skin hot against his, Percy thanks him the only way he knows how, by leaning hard into the embrace and burying his face in Jason's chest. 

"You're incorrigible," he mumbles, smiling into warm skin as a hand skates gently over his back. 

"When it comes to you, absolutely." 

"When it comes to my  _ butt _ , specifically." 

"All of you," Jason insists, but after a moment he seems to give into his impulses and presses hard into the last bruises he left. "But I'll admit, your butt  _ is _ a pretty significant weak spot of mine."

"I'll have to remember that the next time I want an easy win," Percy purrs, and he'd swear he can see Jason's hair stand on end as his smile sharpens with an edge of danger. 

Honestly, the resultant naked pillow fight feels like the best possible course of action. Intimate, ridiculous, a release of energy that leaves them spilled on the mattress again, breathless and sweating. 

(Maybe the couple above them has been loud enough that they kind of deserve a little payback, in the form of a second round. Percy's too busy fidgeting with the key around Jason's neck to care.) 

"Mine," he sighs after, holding tight, and Jason buries his nose in Percy's hair. The feeling of lips curving into a smile is familiar and soothing. 

"Always." 

**Author's Note:**

> I plugged Jason's birthday into a generator a while back, and while the accuracy is probably shaky, it did spit him out as having a Venus in Leo. I'm kind of astrology-agnostic, but I liked the chart I got so much I kind of ran with it. :D (One of my favorite things is that Percy is low-key into astrology. It's just so...unexpected, but entirely consistent.) 
> 
> I'm just so grateful for the encouragement and the happy tears I've dissolved into about thirty times and just, everything about all of you reading, you're making it so much easier for me to get through the day and every one of you has my undying gratitude. Please keep being wonderful and kind and lovely souls and remember to take care of yourselves, too. <3
> 
> Also happy 4/20, pls consume responsibly, #legalizeit, all that lovely stuff.


End file.
